“And passionate about her causes,” The Widow added helpfully. “I hear she’s involved with Madam Tansley’s rescue mission—quite admirable work, helping exploited women and children escape terrible circumstances. Such efforts require both courage and resources.”
Damien’s expression shifted, a flicker of genuine admiration crossing his features. “She mentioned charitable work but not the specifics. Rescuing exploited women?”
“From brothels, primarily, though her network extends to factory workers and street children as well. Your duchess has been quietly funding safe houses and providing alternative employment for those brave enough to seek escape.” The Widow’s tone carried rare approval. “It’s dangerous work—the sort that makes powerful enemies among those who profit from human misery.”
“Like Croft,” Damien said grimly, pieces clicking into place.
“Precisely. Your wife’s activities threaten his business interests in ways she may not fully comprehend. Another reason he’s so determined to neutralize her influence.”
Damien felt a surge of protective pride he hadn’t expected. “She’s braver than I realized.”
“And resistant to your charms,” The Widow finished with amusement. “Something of a novelty for you, I’m sure. How inconvenient for a man who planned to marry in name only and remain detached.”
Damien glared at the older woman. “Whatever attraction exists between us must be temporary. Once I’ve secured Dominic and his evidence, we’ll leave for Westmore Hall. The arrangement will continue as originally planned.”
“Will it?” The Widow’s smile was full of mischief. “Even knowing she’s risking her life to save others? That she’s exactly the sort of woman who would understand your devotion to saving your brother?”
Damien stared at her, his certainty wavering as he considered Eleanor’s courage in an entirely new light.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon smiled knowingly but rose to signal the end of their meeting. “I’ll post my men around Croft’s residence and his preferred watering holes. Let us pray he leads us to Dominic.”
Damien studied The Widow’s face for any sign of deception. She was a master manipulator, after all, and rarely showed her true intentions. “Are you certain you want to cross Croft on my behalf?”
The Widow’s smile turned cold. “Let’s say Lord Croft and I have competing interests in certain areas of London. I’ve been gathering evidence against his operations for months—documenting his criminal lending practices, his coercion methods, his network of corruption. I’ve just been waiting for the right moment to use it.”
“And I represent that moment?”
“You represent something far more valuable—a peer of the realm with both motive and standing to present evidence before Parliament.” Her expression grew appraising. “Your three-year absence hasn’t ruined your reputation, Your Grace. Quite the contrary. Many in Society view your dedication to your brother’s recovery as the highest form of familial honor. To them, you’re seen as the noble duke who sacrificed his own comfort to save his family; there’s considerable sympathy for your position.”
Damien frowned. “Despite Dominic’s difficulties?”
“Precisely because of them. Thetonrespects a man who handles family crises with discretion rather than abandoning troubled relatives. Lord Croft’s activities have crossed the line from distasteful to criminal. With your testimony and my documentation, as well as Dominic’s journal, we could see him stripped of his title and transported.”
“Parliament would hear such accusations?”
“From a duke of your standing? Against documented criminal activity? Oh yes, Your Grace. The House of Lords takes a dim view of peers who engage in usury and extortion—particularly when the accusation comes from someone whose own character is above reproach.”
She paused, studying him with calculating eyes. “Though I confess, our conflict became rather more personal after your marriage.”
“How so?”
“Lord Croft approached me just as your wife’s period of mourning was ending, seeking my assistance in arranging a most advantageous match.” The Widow’s voice carried silky satisfaction. “He was quite convinced that the grieving Lady Sinclair would benefit from his… protection.”
Damien felt ice settle in his veins. “You refused him.”
“I did better than that. I arranged her proxy marriage to you without informing him of the opportunity.” Her smile turned cunning. “He was rather displeased to discover I’d facilitated her union with a duke instead of delivering her into his tender care.”
The thought of Eleanor trapped in marriage to Croft—vulnerable, isolated, systematically destroyed by his manipulations—sent a surge of protective fury through Damien so fierce it left him stunned.
“He would have destroyed her,” Damien said, his voice rough with emotion he couldn’t entirely control.
“Completely. Her independence, her fortune, her spirit—all would have been ground beneath his need for dominance.” The Widow’s expression softened slightly. “Which is why I chose you instead. A man who would cherish what Lord Croft would have corrupted.”
Rising to leave, Damien managed, “I’m in your debt.”
“Yes, you are,” she agreed pleasantly. “Though I wonder if you realize the true nature of that debt.”
“Meaning?”